


Home is a Heartbeat

by CaffeinatedBunny



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - ABO, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Bonding, Found Family, Gen, Good Parent Din Djarin, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Mandalorian Adoption (Star Wars), Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), My First Work in This Fandom, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Planet Sorgan (Star Wars), Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Season/Series 02, Soft Din Djarin, The Covert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedBunny/pseuds/CaffeinatedBunny
Summary: In the aftermath of the battle on Nevarro against Moff Gideon, Din Djarin needs a place where he can rest and recover from his injuries on top of an inconvenient heat. He's going to need help in watching the kid but the Covert is gone and it isn't safe to stay on Nevarro any longer so Din makes a decision that he hopes doesn't come around to bite him on the ass. He doesn't have a whole lot of options though at this point so he sets a course to Sorgan and hopes he and the kid will be welcome.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Din Djarin & Omera, Din Djarin & Winta
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	Home is a Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoy this fic of mine, I have a base idea of where I am going for this and so far the first three chapters are pretty much fully fleshed out and plotted. I am using my own headcanon for Death Watch Mandalorian culture and society so I really hope you give me and it a chance. If you can think of anything I need to add tag wise please let me know, I'm kind of useless at figuring out tags. 
> 
> All Mando'a will be translated at the end of each chapter.
> 
> Edited 28/12/2020 - Fixed some missing sentences and some spelling issues.

Chapter 1: Sorgan

They were grime-covered, dust and sand, ash and sulphur; in Din’s case, there was sweat, blood and tears as well. The battle at Nevarro had been nothing like he had been led to believe it would be, had known it was going to be a trap going in. It was why he had thought to ask both Kuill and Cara to join him, knowing that he wouldn’t have been able to handle the trap by himself. Not with the rough time he’s had of it as of late, his body is sore; muscle and bones aching with a suppressed heat that he had been barely managing to hold back; all of which was more prominent.

They had no time in the aftermath of the battle of Nevarro, to clean up beyond taking care of any of the child’s injuries, no time to go back and check on the Armorer. So with a nod to Karga and Cara Dune, Din forces himself to not give away how much he aches as he uses the jetpack so newly given to him to head back to where the Razor Crest was waiting. He can barely remember taking the time to bury Kuill, the Ugnaught deserved more than what he was able to give but Din had no time. He had to find somewhere safe that they could bed down, heal and rest while his body goes through the heat he has been putting off since the bounty that led him to find the child. 

Groaning as he settles himself into the pilot seat Din, allows himself a moment to close his eyes and just breathe. A soft sound from behind him has him turning his attention to where the child is sitting in the passenger seat, his Mythosaur pendent held tight in a three-fingered grip while the kid suckled on it happily. The sight had his shoulders relaxing, the kid didn’t look any worse for wear from everything that had happened in the last two days. As he looks the child over the Armorer’s words fill his head. 

_“A foundling is in your care. The creed: until it is of age, or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father. This is the way.”_ Din had never had the desire to raise a foundling before though he happily helped to provide for them, had made sure that a good portion of each of his hunts went to their care specifically. Yet here he was with a foundling that he had both given up and rescued, dishonour and honour both in a day along with a comtono full of Beskar ingots. He had forced the Covert out of hiding without meaning too, made it so that they would have had to relocate only to learn just hours ago that his choices had signed his people’s death warrants. The piles of blaster scorched armour an image he never wanted to see, yet still, the Armorer had welcomed him into the forge like he deserved to be there; like he hadn’t been the reason their people were scattered or dead. Instead, she had told him to gather supplies and ammo for the upcoming battle like he was still a part of the tribe even going so far as to name him Buir to the child and gifting him his signet like he wasn’t near being Aruetii or Dar’manda. 

Groaning Din reaches out to start powering up the Razor Crest, an idea already forming in his mind on where they would head. With the child in his care, there was no way he could put himself through a long hyperdrive run while in heat. No, he would need to seek out help and this time there was no Covert to go to for help. 

_His fault, all his fault…_

Swallowing thickly he pushes the pain of loss, guilt, shame and grief to the back of his mind he would deal with those later once his heat is done and he has the time to give them the attention they deserve. Once the Razor Crest has broken through the atmosphere he sets a course to the one place he figured he’d be welcome enough to get the help he would need through his heat. 

The flight to Sorgan wouldn’t be too long, not with doing a hyperjump to get there, but there would be enough time to at least clean up the Child of the dust and ash he was coated in, enough time to pack a bag of essentials. He’d have to wait till they were on Sorgan to take care of his own bathing, sighing Din is slow to get out of the pilot’s seat barely managing to bite back a groan of pain as he straightens up. 

“Alright, you little womp rat, let’s get you cleaned up shall we?” He murmurs quietly as he reaches up to lift the small child up out of his carrier with a small smile as the kid lets out a soft trill at being lifted. Din knows he has a lot to learn when it comes to taking care of a foundling, especially one this young all his experience has been with the older ade of the tribe. Carefully, he cradles the small infant against the ungiving strength of his beskar’gam, not that the Ad’ika weighed much at all so it was easy enough to climb down from the cockpit to the living quarters of the ship, though his shoulder ached with each movement. The Razor Crest wasn’t the biggest ship, far from it actually and the living quarters blended into the cargo space. It was a ship that was built for efficiency, not comfort, even his own sleeping quarters were barely more than a pallet and a rack to hold his beskar’gam when he wasn’t wearing it. 

Filling the small sink with warm water in the food prep area was easy enough; the difficult part was getting the little one out of his robes. They were both tired, his Ad’ika especially so, from what Cara and Karga had told him the kid had used his powers while Din had been more than a little out of it due to his wound. Sighing Din couldn’t help but hang his head as the child started tiredly fussing once he was bare to the cool air of the ship.

“Alright, alright; no bath but you're getting a wipe down then we will both nap till we come out of hyperspace.” He tells the kid while reaching out for one of the soft clothes he now kept on hand for this exact reason; children of any age were messy things. Humming softly under his breath he wets the cloth before moving to wipe down his son’s skin, he has not had a chance to perform the gai bal manda; there had been no chance to do so before the Alor and alone on Nevarro now it had to wait. 

All those months ago, Din had known what he was doing when he broke guild code to rescue the child; there had been a moment when he had carried on like it had been any other job. Had readied the Crest for liftoff when he had come back to himself. ‘Foundlings were the future’ and there he had been nearly willing to let the Imps take his foundling and do whatever they had planned to do to him; as if the guild code meant more to him than the Creed. The realization had shame settle deep into his soul, had sent his fingers quickly shutting the Crest down.

It had been a day of Dishonor for him, a day where he had almost fallen to being Dar’manda; parts of him wished he had spoken to his Alor about the foundling before his ambush of the Imps base. It would have given the Covert more time to relocate but like everything, as of late he had had no time.

 _Hadn’t realized how far he had fallen, how much he had just been going through the motions of the Creed. Din doesn’t know if he was lost to his selfish grief or guiltily ignoring all of the time his family reached out to him in the aftermath of his Buir’s death._

Din held tight to the shame that burned in his chest, his Buir would have smacked him upside the head if he was still alive to have seen him fall so low. 

A low trembling trill pulls him out of his thoughts as he continues to wipe down his child, sighing he dampens the cloth again with warm water focusing on his Ad’ika’s ears, taking care to be as gentle as he could be. “I’m sorry cyar'ika, you Buir is more than a little maudlin tonight.” He murmurs with another sigh before draining the water in the sink and tossing the dirty cloth in with it. Huffing he reaches out for one of the replacement robes he had picked up for his son, dressing the little one quickly before he could start shivering. 

He’s quick once the kid is swaddled to gather up a rucksack and start loading it up with the most crucial things they would need; anything else could be retrieved once his heat was over. Clothes, heat-safe rations, a few toys that the kid had been given and a few blasters as well, once it was all gathered he put the sack by the doors before heading back towards the cockpit. They could nap in the pilot’s seat till they dropped out of hyperspace around Sorgan. 

\- - -

Sorgan was exactly how they had left it after picking up Cara, the air muggy and dense with the scent of wet earth and wood, lushly forested and heavily dotted with lakes and rivers. Unlike the last two visits Din chose to land closer to Omera’s village, the less distance he had to travel with his scent ripening as his heat inches closer to hitting full on the better. Din can’t help the hiss of pain as his whole body jolts as the Crest touches down only for the loamy earth to give under the ship's weight before stabilizing beneath them, his son lets out a worried little warble that has him reaching out to soothe him. 

“Shhh ad’ika, everything’s alright just a rough landing.” He assures the little one before going still as a cramp hits him, wincing Din breathes through the hurt before shutting down the Crest. He does his best to hide how stiff he feels when picking up his kid but doesn’t think he manages considering the small warble that comes from him, the way those long ears fall and he clings to him. It has him humming at his kid soothingly once more as he heads down to the living quarters to gather up the rucksack of their things. 

“It’s going to be alright, we’re going to lay low with Omera and Winta if they’ll have us; you’ll get some time to stretch your legs and play.” He murmurs to his son as he carefully shoulders the heavy pack before walking down the gangplank of the ship. Pausing only long enough to close the Crest back up and set the security protocols in place, not that Din thought anyone nearby would be willing to try and steal his ship. 

Normally he would let the kid walk, the exercise would be good for him especially after being cooped up in the ship for so long but the quicker they got to the village the better. Din keeps up his soft humming as they walk down the trail that leads to Omera’s village, it was familiar in the sense that he remembered scouting it with Cara while they were here, and had figured out it led to another village more than 7 days' travel from the one they were protecting. Breaking through the woods, Din is more than a little surprised to see that the fortifications they had instructed the villagers to build were still up and in some cases extended, he would have thought they would have brought them down after they had left. 

Din pauses taking in the changes that have taken over the village in the time that they had been gone; what he wasn’t expecting though was the crowd of villagers close to the trail that he was on. He most definitely didn't expect Omera to hurry up to him, a smile so full of hope on her face that had him blinking behind his helm. He holds his child closer to him as she hurries up though her smile slowly starts to fall at the sight of him still in his full armour. 

“You came back?” The question is curious and hopeful as she looks between him and his kid in his arms, she had slowed the last few steps to stand before him, her head tilted to the side. 

“I need a place to lay low, heal up and handle…” He pauses as her expression goes confused even as something soft settles around her eyes as she looks him over. 

“You’re going into heat… “ She finishes for him, her eyes going wide as she places the scent that’s starting to come off him. It is interesting to watch her face as the realization settles over her and a shift happens, from seeing him as a prospective mate to omega-brethren. Confusion to realization to understanding; it was always the same because it always fell back to the sexist idea that Mandalorians will only, could only be Alpha’s when it was nothing further from the truth.

“Yes, my tribe is gone and this was the only place I know where I can trust people to help me with the little one.” He says carefully while holding his child tighter to his chest while watching the other woman. It’s not that he couldn’t trust Peli or Cara, it had more to do with the fact that he was used to a village to watch over him during a heat; going to either of the Alpha’s would also just make things more awkward than they had to be. Din can’t help his own curiosity as something in her stance eases and the smile comes back as she regards him quietly. 

“Of course, you and the little one will always be welcome here.” Omera says firmly with a sharp nod of her head before reaching out to take the rucksack from him. “How injured are you?” She wonders as she takes in how he’s holding himself. 

“It was much worse just a day ago, dealing with a concussion, cracked ribs and a nearly dislocated shoulder.” He tells her with a sigh and a careful shake of his head as he moves to follow her into the village proper, noticing the smiles and the waves sent his way as the villagers go back to their daily chores and jobs. 

“You smell of ash and sulphur, you’ll need a bath.” The words were sharp but not out of anger, worry; a feeling that was broadcasted in every line of her body. It was nice to realize that someone cared and Din is quiet as he follows Omera through the Village, the walk is quiet between them. At the northernmost part of the village they stop at an outcropping of rocks, the natural barrier seemed to partially ring the village, before giving way to forest once more. There was a little hut that’s different from the rest built against the rock facing, it seems like nothing more than a one-person shelter really but was actually a natural cave once the shelter's door was pulled open to reveal stairs leading down. 

“It leads to an underground hot spring, there should be more than enough soap and fresh cloths for you both to use, the ones specially for heat sensitivity will be in the glass jars off to the side,” She pauses then turning to look up at him, a gentle considering frown pulling at her features. “This isn’t your first heat is it?” The question lingers between them for a moment before he’s chuckling softly once more, head shaking in the negative. 

“No, it’s not my first.” Din confirms, though he doesn’t go into details there is no need to and Omera doesn’t ask him any just takes his words at face value with a nod of her head. He’s not long past his people’s majority so while he’s familiar with the signs of an oncoming heat, going through them is still something fairly new to him. He watches as the other omega reaches out and presses on a switch that has lights turn on with a flicker. Their warm light illuminates the steps that continue to curve downwards into the rock of the planet. 

“Take your time, the barn and a hot meal will be ready by the time you're done. You shouldn’t be bothered by anyone here during your heat… we don’t have any unmated alpha’s.” Omera seeks to assure him with a smile even as worry dampens her scent; it has him smiling at her kindness but more amused than anything. 

“Even if you did, they wouldn’t be able to mount me, the barn will be more than fine, Omera; thank you for this.” He says calmly while lifting the little one up a bit more so he was more resting on his shoulder than the hard beskar at his chest. Din watches amused as his response startles a bark of laughter from his companion.

“I guess they wouldn’t really be any challenge for you not with your skillset and training.” She says, still laughing even as she hands back the rucksack before reaching out to pat his arm in a silent farewell and turning to leave them to their bath. Din watches her go, a smile still curving his lips under his helmet, waits till she’s turned towards her house before moving to head down to curving steps. 

Din was glad that he hadn’t been wrong in his choice in seeking Omera and her village out for help, his options were fewer now than ever with the destruction of the covert. In truth, his options were between Omera’s hospitality and asking Cara for yet one more favour in the aftermath of the battle of Nevarro. As much as the former shock trooper had warmed up to his kid asking the Alpha to mind him while Din went through a heat seemed a little much. He braces an arm against the wall as he heads down, the air around them warming and getting damper as they go till the heat is like a wet blanket around them. It had the child cooing in interest, his ears perking up as he squirms to look around them, it didn’t take them long to reach the cave where the spring was located. 

It was a decent-sized one, the walls a smoothed down pale stone, that reflected the lights to make the space seem larger than it was. The platform that the stairs ended at was large enough for people to disrobe and leave their things to stay dry before stepping down into the natural bubbling pool of water; the steam was thick in the air with nowhere really for the adventurous little one to go. Letting out a breath of relief, Din allows himself to slowly ease down the wall to sit on the platform with his child still held in his arms. 

“We both get bath time ad’ika,” Din murmurs to his child as he squirms excitedly in his arms, thankfully it was easy enough to get the toddler out of his clean robes. “Wait for me now and we will both get in.” He says firmly before starting to carefully strip off his armour, more than a little surprised that his son chose to sit on the platform watching him for once seeming to listen. His head tilted to the side curiously, ears perked high and a soft wondering coos aimed his way. 

Shaking his head Din makes quick work of setting aside his armour before quickly removing his undershirt as well, he doesn’t bother folding the sand and blood-covered thing. He’ll have to see if he could borrow the necessities to do laundry while he’s here but that would come later or maybe just burn it, it’s not like he couldn’t buy another. Din knows he’s covered in bruises and cuts, that the bruises are deep and mottled and cover more of his body than is healthy, knows he’s not really a sight to be seen. He’ll have to remember to take care of his shoulder and ribs once he isn't too tired, besides he didn’t want to worry the child waiting on him by giving his aches and pains too much attention.

Din gave himself a shake, there was something more pressing that he needed to do first; Din takes a breath as he looks over his son who was watching him back curiously. His brown eyes were wide as he took him in before pushing himself to stand up, wobbling just a little that had Din reaching out to grasp one of the kid’s three-fingered hands gently holding onto it as the child steadied himself. Leaving his helmet on for now it left him nearly as naked as his child has ever seen him who was standing before him, head tilting this way and that while he babbles at him softly before getting entranced by his fingers.

“This is important now kid, need you to pay attention to me alright?” He requests, gently tugging on his son's hand to pull his attention away from his ungloved hand. Din can’t help the smile as the boy looks up at him, head tilting to the side and ears perking up. 

“Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad, ad’ika,” Din says seriously the traditional words falling off his tongue easier than he would have expected as he reaches out to let his hand caress one of his son’s ears before moving to carefully lift his helmet off, pausing at the loud wail that falls from the child. It had him reaching for his son, a chuckle rumbling out of him as he pressed his still helmeted forehead against the child's in a gentle keldabe kiss. “It’s alright cyar'ika, you can see me now.” He promises as he carefully settles the child down in his lap before quickly removing his helm. Looking at his son wanting to see the little one’s reaction only to feel his chest go tight at the sight of the babe trying to hide his face from him. 

Din gives a soft hum as he picks his son up once more to gently press his forehead against the child’s as he waits while the child whines just as softly. Rocking them back and forth gently till he feels the tension ease from the little one; Din lets his own eyes drift shut as they sit there in the quiet of the steam-filled room, calm settling over him as his son touches his face for the first time. 

At the first soft touch Din pulls his forehead away giving the child room to explore and to fully see him for the first time. His ad’ika’s skin is warm and dry, the palms rasp against his scruffy cheeks as the child explores what he can touch. He's slow to open his eyes as the child continues to carefully touch the planes of his face, smiling softly at the wonder that had taken over his son's expression.

“Not that bad looking am I, nothing to fear from your buir, I promise you,” He murmurs quietly, amused as his son’s ears all but wiggle at the sound of his unmodulated voice for the first time. Lifting the child up high Din lets the little one touch and learn his face before carefully setting him down once more. Soothing him gently with a hum while he ignores the pleading whine while his ad’ika holds up his arms imploringly as he stands up to remove his filth covered pants. It only takes him a little more of a heartbeat before he’s once more scooping the child up once more to hold him close. 

“Come on, you can look your fill while we bathe, hmm? Get the dust and ash of Nevarro off our skin.” Din continues as he takes careful steps into the springs slowly swirling water, sighing at the sensation and the warmth of the water as he slowly eases his way into its depths. 

He can’t remember the last time he had a hot bath like this, had to have been before his trip to find the kid since the Crest was only equipped with Sonics; what little water reservoirs they had were for other things. Once he found the hidden ledge of the spring, Din lets himself sink carefully into the water with a groan even as he minds the child clinging to his neck. While the water was steaming and hot it wasn’t scalding, so once he was settled he used his free hand to cup some water and let it flow over his son’s back. The heat of the water was helping the aches he was feeling in his bones and Din could only imagine that it would help his child as well, he wasn’t blind to the bruises mottling his kids green skin a shade or two darker than his normal tone. The sight of them had him glad that IG-11 had managed to kill the ones who had done that harm.

“Going to have to find you a name ad’ika, can’t keep calling you child now can I?” Din muses with a chuckle as the baby coo’s at him, his fingers exploring his beard and hair curiously too distracted to be paying attention. Shifting he moves to shift his son so he is also in the water with him only to pause at the soft wail that falls from the toddler. “Oh, don’t be like that little one, I’m not going to disappear on you.” He promises as he snuggles his son’s back against his chest in the warm water, letting his eyes slip close as the child lets out a soft coo once he is enveloped in the hot water as well. 

“There we go, let’s just soak for a moment cyar'ika --” His words fade away as he lets himself nearly go boneless, letting the heat of the water help ease the stiffness in his joints and the ache in his bones. A smile tugs at his lips at the sigh that he hears escape the child still leaning against his chest. Time slips away from him and Din doesn’t know how long it’s been but not so long to be inconvenient for anyone else. Shifting he moves to set his son on a slightly higher ledge to sit on and yet still be partially submerged in the hot water before letting himself sink fully beneath the surface of the hot spring. 

Din is quick in working his fingers through his hair to rid himself of the worst of the tacky congealed blood that matted the curling length. He was in need of a haircut, with the child being in his care he hadn’t had much time to take care of himself as of late. He had time to rectify that today so tossing his head as he breaks the surface he pushes his hair out of his face with a sigh, the tightness on his scalp nearly gone. A small distressed sound pulled his attention to his squirming son who was holding out his hands desperately. 

“You’re fine ad’ika, it’s Buir’s bath time this time.” He assures the child with a soft laugh before looking around for the products that Omera had told him he could use; finding them easily he gathers what he would need to wash his hair to rid himself of the last of the dried blood. 

He’s quick and efficient with his cleansing of his person, thorough in making sure he was clean before turning his attention to his son. Grabbing a soft cloth he wets it with soap before moving to wash the boy more thoroughly than he had earlier, he takes his time with it, making his son giggle as he tickles his pudgy belly. The sight brings a smile to his face remembering the matrons who watched the toddlers of the tribe and their reiteration of: chubby babies are healthy babies. 

Once they were both clean, Din cuddles his son close with a sigh before heading back to the platform, wrapping them both up in towels he takes his time in drying his son off before dressing him. He gives a hum as his ad yawns big and wide, his impossibly large eyes starting to droop; so with care, he makes a nest out of the towel for the little one since Din still had his hair to take care of. So he digs through his pack for his personal hygiene kit and takes out some clippers, it’s easy enough work to shave the sides down before trimming the top lengths so that they wouldn’t get in his eyes while wearing his helmet.

Din takes a quick dunk in the spring once more to remove the excess hair he could feel prickling his skin, once that was done he makes sure to dry off quickly before dressing in a new Kute, after that, it was easy enough to don his helm and shoulder his rucksack now heavy with his armour. Taking care Din crouches down to pick up his sleeping child, he settles him against his chest before heading back up the stairs to the surface. 

The sight of Omera, sitting before the doorway leading down the spring, cleaning a blaster rifle with ease has him blinking, he hadn’t expected to see her till he got to her barn. 

“You were quicker than I was expecting, you could have relaxed longer.” She tells him with a blink of her own before taking in the sight of the sleeping child. “Ahhh,” Omera intones with a nod of her head in understanding and acceptance before standing up and reaching for the straps of his rucksack. “Let me.” 

Din finds himself letting the other omega easily heft the weight of his bag with a small smile not even bothering to argue with her. Omera had a spine of steel and would book no arguments once she had set her mind to something, it was familiar in a way.

“You didn’t need to guard the entrance - -” 

“Probably not but it made me feel better to do so, your scent is spiking with your heat, plus you were bathing with your child; I wasn’t going to let you be interrupted when you were without your helmet.” Omera interrupts him with a smile and a fond glance his way. She had a face made to smile, it lit up her expression and made her look much younger than she was, eased the lines that a not so easy life had left. 

“Vor entye,” Din hopes that even with the voice modulator his words express his gratitude; warmed that Omera respected him and his faith enough to guard him in such a manner. 

“There is no debt between us, you will always be welcome wherever I make my home.” She says firmly as she gives him a look full of fondness, but her words draw him up short. “Come, I’ll explain while you eat, it’s not a story to be told in the middle of the street.” Omera insists before carefully taking his arm and walking him to her place, it wasn’t a long walk back to the village or to the porch that circled her home and the barn in the marshy ground. 

Inside the barn was as cool as he remembered from the last time he stayed, the scent of dried long grass, salt and something herbalistic was familiar and Din could feel a tension he hadn’t noticed slip away. Just like last time, there was a cot and a cradle as well as a low table for him to eat at, it was laden with bowls and covered pots that had steam rising off them. Din lays the child out in the cradle while he hears Omera placing his rucksack down beside the doorway. He watches as she steps back out the door before pulling a thick cloth screen across the entrance. 

“Eat and I will start my story,” Omera says and her voice wasn’t hindered by the cover and he can hear her settling in against the wooden side of the barn. It takes him a moment to relax before sitting down at the low table, he’s slow to take the helmet off. The scent of spice is easier to scent with the helmet off, it has him reaching out to pull off the hot lid of the nearest pot quickly. He hasn’t had something homemade and spiced since before he took back his son; the scent deepens the moment the lid is lifted, it has him humming in pleasure. 

“I figured you would appreciate something warm” Omera’s soft chuckle brings him back to where he was as he starts dishing up his meal into his bowl. She waits till he’s settled before starting her tale, her voice fond but tinged with sorrow. “My grandfather was Mandalorian, but he had lost his helmet; he never said how; just that as much as it was his shame he couldn’t come to regret its loss. He kept to as much of the traditions as he could of which he taught my father, his brother and his two sisters,” 

“I am unsure what has become of my Uncles, Aunts or my cousins in the wake of the wars, but my father carried on the tradition and taught me as well. He taught me to shoot, fight and Mando’a though I’ve lost my fluency with the language; Winta has shown no interest in learning and so it has started to fade with disuse but I still understand it to hear it.” Here she pauses like she is gathering her thoughts while Din eats the mildly spiced meal that Omera had been kind enough to prepare. It wasn’t as spiced as he would prefer but the amount of spice that Mandalorians tend to like were far stronger than most others could handle -- plus Din doubted that the heavy spices would be good for the child even if they just scented the air.

“He taught me other things as well; honour codes, the strength in loyalty and respect, how to stand my ground and not move an inch. We were as close to Mandalorian as we could get without dishonouring what that creed stood for --” She falls silent once more, Din keeps quiet as he allows the other omega to gather her thoughts while he takes another bite of her amazing cooking.

“I did you a disservice the last time you were here, I should have never reached for your helm without your expressed permission to touch or to remove it, it was dishonourable of me... Ni ceta.” It comes out in what seems like one breath, shame and sadness making her words waver at the end. 

“Cin vhetin ner burc'ya.” Din says firmly with a shake of his head even knowing that Omera wouldn’t be able to see it as far as he was concerned she had no reason to apologize. He appreciated her words but they were not needed, Omera had opened not only her home to him but had been willing to take in his child as a favour to him before another bounty hunter had made it obvious that they couldn’t stay. 

“You’re a good man.” She says with a soft laugh with a sniffle at the end, which has Din reaching for his helmet so that they could speak face to face. “Finish eating, I’m fine; it’s nice to speak Mando’a again but it brings back memories of my parents and grandparents. I’ll let you get settled, for the evening and I’ll see you tomorrow alright?” 

It wasn’t the first time that Din had noticed that Omera has never referred to him as Mando like so many others have, that she always was in the habit of pointedly directing her words to him. She had preferred to use touches, gentle nudges or pointed attention when dealing with him, Din better understood now. 

“Thank you Omera, I appreciate all that you have done for me and my son, “ He starts off not sure how to actually introduce himself now, it has been so long since he has needed to. Outside of the Covert, he was simply Mando, with his tribe he was Din so how did one go about introducing oneself to a friend? “Ner burc’ya… I’d be honoured if you knew my name --”

“I would be honoured to learn it Ner burc’ya.” She interrupts him with a laugh, it’s still tinged with melancholy but less so now, it made him smile. Din hadn’t expected to make such a friend in the other Omega, hadn’t known what to expect really in seeking her out but this was more than he had been willing to hope. 

“It’s Din, Din Djarin.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Din Djarin, now I’ll leave you and your son to your meal and I’ll see you in the morning. Good night vod.” 

“Good night Vod.”

\- - - 

Din wakes up to warm, his clothing sticking to his skin; he has just enough time to become aware of the discomfort before a cramp hits him causing him to groan and curl up with the pain. It makes the ache in his ribs more pronounced as he grits his teeth through the discomfort, the sounds of the village waking up were quiet and it was obviously still early judging by the haze of dawn just starting. He carefully leverages himself up into a sitting position, one arm wrapped around his stomach as he glances over to the nearby cradle to find his son just starting to stir; he would be hungry once he woke up having slept through the night. 

He’s just reaching to pull his shirt over his head when the shuffle of feet hits him, it has him quickly putting his helm on instead. 

“Din are you awake?” Came a whisper from Omera, it had him answering just as softly before moving to pull aside the drape to let her into the barn. The warmth of her smile has him relaxing once more before he takes in the tray she was carrying as well. 

“You don’t have to go to all this extra trouble to feed us, I made sure to bring rations.” He murmurs to her while heading to the table so they could swap out the old dishes from the night before. 

“You need more than just rations, you need food and rest,” Omera chides while sending him a look with a sigh before taking him in, he watches as she scents the air around them before reaching out to rest her fingers along his pulse point. It’s not scenting, not really but the touch is pleasant though sudden, her touch cool against his flushed skin. “Your warm but not heat-hot, your scent is ripe but not overwhelming.” She starts before her attention is pulled away by his son who had woken up fussily, mild worry edges her normally calm and pleasant scent. 

“Still feverish enough to be sweat-damp.” He tells her with a huff but it has him acknowledging the shift. “So not a true heat then.” It would still be bothersome to deal with but he would be far less incapacitated. 

“No, not a true heat just balancing out hormones; you were probably on the cusp of one when you got the little one…” Omera says while she picks up his son who’s fussing in his cradle while looking at him with a whine. “Oh shhh, ad’ika you’re fathers right there no need to whine.” She tries to soothe him while glancing his way. 

“I was yes, and had been putting it on hold with temporary blockers during the mission to get him.” It was better than going through heat, he’d still have the cramps and a mild fever but he’d be able to be more of a help than a hindrance. 

“One less stressor for your body to go through while you heal thankfully, the idea of you going through heat with cracked ribs and a bad shoulder had me worried. This will be much easier for you to handle; I had a similar heat when Winta was a year old.” She says with a smile while watching him carefully settle down by the table before handing his son over to him. The kid continues to fuss even once he holds him close, his tiny hand reaching up to push at his helmet with a whine.

“No, ad’ika” He says with a sigh while Omera laughs gently at the sight of him trying to get the little one settled. 

“I’ll let you two eat, come find me once you’re ready,” 

“Thank you.” Din manages to say as he once more manages to catch his son’s hands before he could try and lift the helmet once more with a sigh. Omera is still laughing at them as she pulls the heavy drape over the door leaving him with his son. He waits a moment longer before reaching up to take his helmet off to sigh at his son. “Really ad’ika, you couldn’t behave and let me have a conversation before seeing my ugly mug?” He teases the child gently before finding the warm meal that Omera had prepared. 

Din watches his son as they share a meal together for the first time, it’s a little more difficult than normal considering the child continues to turn mid-bite to look at him as if making sure that he was still there. It makes him shake his head in amusement at his antics before finishing his own meal. 

“Hurry up now or you’ll have to wait longer to go play with Winta and the others.” He reminds the kid with a smile, his words causing his son to perk up excitedly, his ears all but wiggling with it before he turns back to his bowl to finish eating voraciously. Din can’t help the chuckle at the mess his son makes of himself in his hurry to finish; once the child was done, he uses a soft cloth to wipe his face with a sigh. 

“Keep eating like that and you’ll need another bath.” He grumbles goodnaturedly as he lifts him off his lap and places him onto the floor of the barn. “Now be good and let me get changed.” Din adds while pointing a finger at his son only for the little boy to giggle at him. 

He makes quick work of changing into one of his lighter kute’s, before repacking his rucksack, he already has a plan for his day when the sound of dashing feet draws close only to do a dead stop right at the door. 

Winta no doubt. Smiling once more he reaches out for his helm to slide it on ignoring his kid’s whine at the sight of him once more wearing it. The kid was getting spoiled, sighing he scoops the ad up with a sigh. 

“What am I going to do with you hmm ad’ika?” He murmurs to him as he holds him close. “You’ll see more of my face later tonight, for now, it is a new day and you have playing to get too and I have my own chores as well.” Din continues before carefully shouldering his rucksack with a wince before moving to open the cloth door. Winta was indeed standing nervously before the door, jumping slightly when he pulled back the cloth. 

“Good morning adiik, are you here to mind the little one?” He asks even knowing the answer in the way the young girl’s face brightens at the sight of his son. 

“Adeck?” She questions, her attention sliding to him with a frown of confusion, her pronunciation has him chuckling. 

“Ah-deek, adiik,” He carefully pronounces the mando’a word for her, while his son looks back and forth between them. 

“Ah-deek, adiik.” Winta mimics him, still a little off but much better than before, her head tilting as she looks up at him. “What does it mean?” 

“It means child in my language.” He informs her before shifting to carefully hand over his son to her. “Why don’t you take him to go play, I am sure he would like it,” Din adds, more amused than anything as the young girl quickly takes his son holding him close as she hurries off to find the other ade of the village. He watches her closely as she easily gathers the kids to her. 

“You're good with them, most would never guess,” Omera says with a laugh as she comes up to his side while leaning against the railing. 

“I helped out with the older foundlings at the covert, never with the youngest ones though so it’s been a learning curve with my ad’ika,” Din admits with a careful shrug of his shoulder before turning to face the other omega. “Is there somewhere I can sit and take care of my armour and do laundry?” 

“You can give me the laundry to do, I’ll leave the armour to you but yes there is a place where you can sit; this way.” She says with another laugh before once more reaching out and stealing the rucksack from off his shoulder. “You know it is not a dishonour to ask for help…” Omera hedges with a pointed look. 

“Your right it isn’t…” He agrees with a nod of his head as he falls into step beside her. “I have been hunting on my own, with few stops back at the Covert. Barely enough time between jobs to drop off my earnings with our Alor before heading out once more.” 

“Ahhh…” Falls from her as Omera turns her head to look at him, there’s no judgment in her face, only understanding. “You're not alone now and like I said yesterday: wherever I make my home you will be welcome.” She says sincerely as they walk into the center of the village instead of to the pools that rim it. She leads him to a woven reed mat placed under an extended awning where a few older omega’s were seated weaving baskets. The sight has him turning to look at her in disbelief. 

“Oh don’t complain, enjoy the shade and take care of your armour,” She says with a roll of her eyes before also pointing off to the side. “Besides you’ll be better able to keep an eye on the children and I won’t be far if you need me.” Omera adds as she motions first to the playing kids then over to a few other people using a communal washing bin.

Sighing Din concedes to her reasoning before carefully settling himself down onto the mat, reaching out to take the rucksack as she hands it to him. “Thank you.” 

“Your welcome.” 

The rest of the morning is spent fixing the wiring in his armour before taking care to check over the beskar, once that was done it was easy enough to start helping the elders in weaving the large baskets. They weren’t tightly woven, needing to let the waters drain out when harvesting the krill the villagers farmed, not at all like the baskets the covert used to use before they moved into the sewers on Nevarro. 

Weaving was familiar and mindless enough that Din could let his hands work while he watched the children play which is just as familiar; he used to watch the Covert’s older children play while maintaining his weapons or mending some of the children’s clothes that needed it. There were always chores that needed to be done when at the Covert, chores and hands to help; things he had let fall to the wayside while he focused so obsessively on his hunts and providing for the very people he had all but abandoned. 

_It was a wonder that the Alor even welcomed him into the Covert, let alone the forge._

He’s pulled out of his thoughts, hadn’t even realized how his attention had drifted when a multitude of shadows had covered his work. Glancing up he's more than a little surprised to see the children standing there watching him quietly. 

“Yes?” He asks them, head tilting to the side as he becomes aware of the sweat prickling the back of his neck and the tension running down his spine. Din knows he should get up and stretch but he wants to finish this basket before doing so.

“Are you really an Omega?” One of the braver children speaks up, ignoring the sharp look Winta sends his way, she was definitely her mother’s daughter. All of them were too young to have presented yet and it wasn’t that surprising of a question considering his people’s rarity. His ad’ika was standing before him with the other children and it reminded him of teaching the ade of the Covert lessons. 

“I am.” He answers simply, hands still working the reeds in a pattern that would create a solid structure while letting the water drain out easily. “Mandalorians can be of any presentation, not just Alpha.” 

“Do you know how to weave and mend because you're an Omega?” Another asks before deciding to take a seat on the ground instead of standing, the others soon follow suit. The group keeps a respectful distance from the edge of the mat and himself, while his son toddles that little bit closer watching his hands curiously. 

“No, I know how to weave because the skill is a useful one to have, just like cooking, mending, first aid, repair work. All of those skills or lack thereof could mean the difference between life or death.” Din explains as he finishes off the basket before turning his attention to the elders and handing it over for their inspection. He hadn’t noticed that they had fallen silent to listen to him till that moment, their old wrinkled faces, skin leathery with age and from sun; are filled with amusement and indulgence like the elders of the Covert while watching the next generation. 

Peace was a tangible thing here on Sorgan and Din was thankful that the elders and the children could experience such a time; tentative as it had been. Nodding to the older Omega’s Din is slow to turn back to the group sitting before him, an insistent tapping on his leg has him looking down to see his son who’s staring up at him imploringly. Din couldn’t resist the silent request of the kids' raised arms so he picked the boy up, lifting him to press their foreheads together with a quiet ad’ika before settling him back into his lap. 

“What does that mean?” It was Winta this time asking the question, “I heard you call him that this morning, is it his name?” 

“It isn’t his name, it means little one.” Din explains when he looks back up to the group of kids sitting before him; why he didn’t know it wasn’t like he was doing much but sitting there. Though he supposes that it wasn’t every day you had a Mandalorian weaving baskets with your elders. “Was there something you needed?” 

“Can you teach us to fight?” One of the older kids demands while leaning forwards to look at him. 

“No, I can’t.” 

“You taught our parents.” Came the quick refute.

“I taught your parents to defend what is theirs, to learn to fight and fight good enough to not die is a lifelong pursuit of learning. Your parents can now teach you those defence skills if they deem it required.” Din says with a shake of his head and he can already see the hot-headed boy gearing up to argue. 

“Enough Jabae, leave the Mandalorian alone.” Came the rough snap of one of the elders; it wasn’t an angry snap more fond than anything but still an order that the other kids all respected. 

“But grandma.” The one called Jabae starts to whine a pout to his lips as his attention shifts to the elder who was closest to Din. 

“Don’t grandma me, Jabae; you wish to fight for no reason which is reason enough not to learn. You do not have the respect needed to follow lessons, already you argue with your would-be teacher bahh.” She says with a flick of her wrist dismissing the child and silencing him easily. “Off you lot go, go play soon enough it will be lunchtime and your afternoon chores.” 

There was a chorus of ‘Yes elder.’ before the children all scamper off with only Winta pausing long enough to once more take his son from him to go play. 

“He will be a handful like my son was before he settled but he has a good heart.” The old Omega says with a hum before going back to what she was doing, her long bony fingers working needle, thread, beads and leather easily. He doesn’t recognize what she is doing or what she is making but can see the beauty in the craft, the skill in the ability. 

“Most children are as they get to be that age.” He agrees before reaching out to start another basket but a touch stops him. 

“I am Yavenni,” She introduces herself once his attention was on her. “These are Calduer and Zandira; we thank you for your bravery during your last visit and your current help with our chores but you are healing and in heat, rest or go stretch your muscles a bit.” Yavenni says with a chuckle that sounded more like a rattle as her hand pats his arm. 

Din finds himself staring at her with a small frown in confusion, how could she tell? He had been careful not to show how sore he was feeling. Her laugh brings him out of his thoughts once more. 

“I am old, not scent-blind and dumb. You came here seeking a safe place to rest with your child and help while you heal. You hold yourself carefully even as you move efficiently. So let yourself recover, now that the raiders are gone you can allow yourself the time to heal.” She says seriously, her tone books no argument from him and he’s reminded of his tribe's own Elders and their no-nonsense, do not argue with us tones. It’s a comfort and a reminder of his failings. 

“Yes, Elder.” Din finds himself agreeing with a barely there chuckle of amusement as he carefully moves to stand up and stretch out his stiff muscles. 

“Oh, shoo you rascal,” Yavenni says with a huff even as her shoulders shake with amusement, he glances to the others to find their shoulders shaking as well even as they are seemingly focused on their own tasks. Shaking his head Din does as he’s told, he hadn’t realized how stiff he truly was till he started moving, had pushed back the pain of cramps and the prickle of sweat along the back of his neck and along his spine. Thankfully he didn’t seem to have to deal with some of the more unpleasant things that heat brought on; a small mercy at this moment that he wasn’t dealing with slick as well.

He walked to where Omera was seemingly finishing up the task of washing with others, somethings were universal and laundry was one of them.

“Got shooed away by Yavenni finally?” She says without preamble when he reaches her side, where she was wringing out the last of their laundry, a basket already loaded up with the wet things at her feet. 

“I am to either go rest or stretch.” He informs her dutifully unable to suppress his amusement at being ordered around like he was still a wayward foundling. Din is a little surprised that Yavenni hadn’t tried to smack him on his shoulder for his lip. 

“Well if that’s the case, you can help me carry this home and put it up to dry; then we can start preparing lunch.” Omera says her warm voice full of mirth as well as she wrings the thick cloth to the best of her abilities. Din reaches out to take it from her, ignoring her frown as he twists the fabric tight before giving it a good wring. He watches as a decent amount of water streams out of it while doing his best to not broadcast the twinge in his shoulder, sighing he drops the damp thing into the basket. 

Omera eyes him like she’s trying to figure something out before laughing softly and shakes her head without giving him a credit for her thoughts. Instead, she simply takes one handle of the basket while he takes the other and together they lift the heavy thing. 

The walk back to her home was quiet but companionable nonetheless, the last time he had such a thing was while his own Buir was alive and walking together through the Covert after a successful hunt. Once at Omera’s she leads them carefully around the side to a spot where four lines were set up; they make quick work of hanging the cleaned garments and bedding up. By the time they were finished Din’s shoulder and ribs were aching to the point that he couldn’t hold back the groan as he all but collapsed into a low chair in Omera’s home. 

“You should listen to your body more vod,” Omera chides him before she starts moving about the kitchen space while sending him a sharp glare. 

“I’m not used to having time to heal.” He admits softly with a sigh as all the aches and pains from the past months of running from Hunters and just trying to survive has seemingly caught up with him. His admission makes the other omega tsk at him. 

“You're staying here till you are fully healed and I’m satisfied with your health.” She decides her voice firm and booked no arguments as she places a cutting board, a knife and a bunch of unfamiliar vegetables. “Chop these for me.” 

“I have no doubt you’d drag me back if I tried to go for my ship, plus I want to give the kid more time planetside, he needs time to play and heal as well. The imps were not gentle with him, didn’t realize he’s a child and not a thing.” He says with a huff before doing as told, thankful that the task could be done from where he was sitting. 

“They’re dead?” The question was sharp and Din didn’t fail to notice how Omera had gone still, her hand gripping the hilt of her own knife tight. 

“They are.” He assures her as he continues to chop the first vegetable smoothly.

“Good.” Was all that was said before silence once more falls between them as they prep what they would need for whatever it was that Omera was making. Din can’t remember the last time he had cooked with someone like this and he was surprised to realize he missed the simple companionship of having someone with him, of not being alone. 

The silence is broken as Winta comes nearly crashing into the house, panting with exertion from her running; but there was a bright grin on her face, an expression his son shared with her. The kid makes a sound of surprise at seeing him before holding out his arms insistently. 

“Stay with Winta, ad’ika; I’m getting lunch ready for everyone.” He says with a shake of his head while Winta joins him at the table to stare at him even as she continues to hold his now pouting son. 

“Are you going to marry my mom? Can Omega’s marry Omega’s?” The questions are asked with a child’s innocent curiosity while the sudden tension goes over their head as Omera and Din turn to look at each other in surprise. 

“Yes, Omega’s can marry Omega’s if that is who they fall in love with but no --” Omera pauses in wiping off her hands as she glances to him seeking his agreement silently. Din doesn’t know when this silent understanding happened between them maybe it was during his first time on Sorgan maybe it had just become obvious this time around. So he nods his head before starting up with his task of chopping once more, not wanting Winto to think he was troubled by her questions. “No, Din and I are not going to marry; we are like siblings.” 

The explanation is simple, to the point and honest; Din glances once more over to Omera catching her eye at the same time. There’s an amused little smile on her lips as she nods at him they would talk later once the children were fed. 

“But what if I want you for a dad?” Winta plaintively cries as her frown slips nearly into a pout.

“I could be your ba'vodu instead.” He offers with a tilt of his head, knowing the strange word would catch her interest and distract her from her disappointment. 

“Baevoedoo?” The young girl questions her nose wrinkling while Omera lets out a snort of amusement; of course, his son lets out a gurgle at this point as he sits in Winta’s lap.

“Bah-vod-oo, Ba’vodu; uncle.” 

“Ba’vodu, uncle.” Winta takes her time pronouncing the word this time before grinning in delight. “I’d like that, I don’t have any uncles.” She says with a decisive nod of her head and just like that the conversation was done leaving the adults to finish up the prep and Omera the cooking. 

The kitchen is filling up with a hearty warm scent as she moves about the space adding this and that to the pot while Winta had taken his son to go clean up before lunch was served. 

“After we eat, I’ll wrap your ribs. We should have done that last night but --” 

“It was late, the ad’ika was asleep and I needed to eat.” Din says in agreement and he should have asked for help with them this morning considering the way they were protesting now. She gives a hum of an agreement but lets the conversation fade away as their children come back, washed of dust from playing all morning. 

Lunch was a simple affair, spiced vegetables over a bed of herbed rice with a bit of meat on the side, Din fed his son while Omera and Winta ate their meals content to wait to eat his own. He could tell that the little one wasn’t too happy in not getting to share his meal with him like this morning but he had seemed to realize that with others around Din wouldn’t be taking the helmet off. While the meal was simple the company was anything but, Winta was a boisterous child, full of energy and delighting in everything. She was quick to smile and more than willing to fill the kitchen with tales of her and the other children’s adventures from this morning. 

The small kitchen was filled with the scents of food, comfort and family, a scent he hasn’t had since his own Buir had passed; one that the Crest was starting to carry as well though a much simpler form of it considering it was normally just him and his son. It had him relaxing, the last of his tension seeming to drift away as he settled into this space with these two people who were turning out to be family but not tribe.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Mando'a Translations:**  
>  Ad'ika - little one, little child; also lads or guys when used with adults though the context is key.  
> Ad - child (son, daughter)  
> Ade - children  
> Adiik - child between the ages 3-13  
> Alor - leader, chief, *officer*, constable, boss  
> Buir - parent  
> Dar’manda - a state of not being Mandalorian - not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and his soul - regarded with absolute dread by most traditionall-minded Mando'ade  
> Aruetii - traitor, foreigner, outsider  
> cyar'ika - darling, sweetheart  
> Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad - adoption vow - lit. I know your name as my child.  
> Vor entye - Thank you (lit. *I accept a debt*)  
> Ni ceta - sorry (lit: I kneel) grovelling apology - rare  
> Cin vhetin - fresh start, clean slate - lit. white field, virgin snow  
> Vod - sibling  
> Ner - my  
> Burc'ya - Friend
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and Kudos are so so so appreciated and make my day you have no idea, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter of this fic and stick around.


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